Remy's Morning
by ElvenMuggle
Summary: Oneshot Remy and Rogue wake up one morning after a drunken night spent together.


**Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to marvel, I only own the plot.**

**A/N: This is rated M, but I don't think it's all that bad. There is some suggestive content though and I don't want my story to be deleted so it's M. I've never written from Remy's point of view before so this was a little different for me. Hope you like it. And reviews are very much appreciated :)**

…

Rogue was confused.

Really though, confused was a light way to put it. Astounded, stumped, horrified, surprised, astonished, confounded, puzzled, and baffled were a few more ways to put it but there was no word to describe exactly how she was feeling right now.

Backtracking in her mind, she tried to figure how exactly she had gotten into the spot that she was in now.

The last thing she remembered was drinking shot—after shot—after shot of tequila. That sort of explained why—and kind of not explained why she had woken up in a strange bed wrapped around the naked body of Remy Lebeau.

There was no question what they had done the night before; Rogue knew that from her tired muscles and her own naked form. But how had they gotten to _that_ point? It wasn't like he was the enemy anymore. It had been two years since they had defeated Apocalypse and the Acolytes had broken up. It had been one year since Colossus had joined the X-men, and one month since Remy had done the same. It had been one week since she had gained control of her powers.

Maybe that was a reason she had ended up here. Maybe that, along with the obvious fondness the Cajun had for her, and though she tried to hide it, felt it for him also.

Or she could always blame Jean. It was she after all that had decided to throw a barbeque at her new place to 'bring the teams together' as she had put it. She had invited the Brotherhood (though Wanda had been the only one to show up) and the former Acolytes (save for Sabretooth) and all the X-men.

At first it had been a nice family friendly barbeque. They had all talked and actually enjoyed each other's company. Rogue tried her best to converse with other people as Remy mercilessly flirted with her the entire time. But as of late, that was the norm and she had actually (secretly) come to enjoy it.

But then Professor X, Ororo, Logan, and Mr. McCoy left. And that's when the barbeque ended and the party started.

Someone (Rogue never found out who exactly) pulled out the tequila, and though Jean wrinkled her nose in disapproval, even she ended up drinking a shot. Or two. Kitty cranked on the stereo, and then Remy dared Rogue to drink three shots in a row—and that was the last thing she remembered.

No, wait, the picture was fuzzy, but she could have _sworn_ she had seen Wanda and that pyromaniac making out on the floor behind Jean's couch. For some reason, she remembered that she and Remy had found that hilarious and ended up laughing about it for quite a while.

Now her head was aching from thinking. That was probably due to the alcohol.

She should get up, but she had never felt so tired in her life, not even after a Wolverine training session. Every muscle in her body ached. Whether that was a side affect of the drinking or her nightly activities she wasn't sure.

The pounding in her head sure wasn't a nice aftereffect either.

Cracking an eye open, Rogue was grateful for the curtains that covered the windows, affectively blocking the sunlight from filtering in. Though if the sun was shining she wasn't exactly sure how she was going to make it back home, the thought of any kind of light made her head pound harder just thinking about it.

And she had to make it back home before Remy woke up. She couldn't deal with this surprise, the hangover from hell, and Remy's questions all at once. Where was she anyway?

Lifting her head a little from Remy's rising and falling chest, she looked around the room through squinted eyes. It sure wasn't Jean's house, just from the mess she could say that for certain.

Clothes, magazines, and various other things were strewn out all over the floor. Every drawer in the dresser was open with clothes hanging halfway out. The trashcan in the corner was overflowing; there were playing cards upon playing cards all over the top of the dresser so she felt it safe to assume that this must be Remy's apartment.

And also that Remy was a slob.

Speaking of which, Rogue glanced up to see that he was still sleeping. It was weird to see him asleep and not see him running or jumping or training or flirting constantly with her. He was calm and not moving for the first time she had ever witnessed.

What was she going to say to him when he woke up? And oh god…did anyone see them together last night? Someone must have driven them here; there was no way they would have let them drive off in the condition they were in. That is, if anyone else had been sober enough to drive them. How was she going to explain this to anyone else when even she didn't know the answers?

This was embarrassing. And it was going to be more embarrassing if she didn't get out of there, quick.

Though he was sleeping, Remy had a strong grip on her. Both of his arms were laced around her waist and she spent a few minutes prying them off of her and trying not to wake him up doing it.

Finally, she was free.

Rogue slipped slowly out of bed and looked for her clothes. Which were nowhere. What the hell? They had to be here someplace. This…is where they had taken them off, right? RIGHT?

Spotting blue, Rogue scooped up one (of many) of the shirts off of Remy's floor and slipped it on. It wasn't hers but she didn't want to walk around his apartment in search for her clothes in the nude.

Glancing back at Remy one more time to make sure he was still asleep, she tiptoed out of the room and pulled the door closed behind her.

It looked like Remy was just as much a slob when it came to cleaning the rest of his tiny apartment. There were still boxes from when he had moved here a month ago piled up all over the living room.

A few boxes were tipped over with the contents thrown all over the floor and she had to wonder if they had knocked it over last night in their drunken stupor.

Aha! Her jeans! Rogue triumphantly picked them up and slipped them on. Her shoes and one of her socks were next to the front door and she went ahead and put those on also. Now she just needed her shirt. And not to mention her bra and panties which were nowhere to be seen.

She spent the next fifteen minutes searching the living room for these items, with no luck. This did nothing to help her headache and when she went into the kitchen to get some water, she found her other sock on the counter.

Not spending any time trying to figure how that had gotten there, Rogue quickly downed a glass of water and then went back to her search.

They weren't in the living room. They must be in the bedroom. Sighing, she quietly entered Remy's room again to find him still sleeping peacefully. Searching this room wasn't going to be easy. Or fun…it looked gross. It wasn't like she was a neat freak or anything, but come on…you've got to have some limits.

She set to work looking for her shirt, trying to remember what she wore last night. No…thinking wasn't helping the headache, no more thinking.

…

Remy awoke to the sound of rustling papers. He figured he was still half asleep and rolled over to snuggle deeper into his pillow when he smelled something. It wasn't a bad smell; on the contrary, it was a nice smell. But it was strange that it was here, in his bed. It'd never been there before…what was it?

He took in a deep breath and then he realized—Rogue. It smelled like Rogue here.

But why was that there? The last thing he remembered was…something about tequila…and a barbeque…and a LOT of laughing…and mind blowing sex with Rogue.

Snapping his eyes open, Remy scrambled into a sitting position and looked around. That's when he spotted the jean clad (not to mention nicely rounded) bottom facing him from the floor.

Rogue was on all fours on the ground searching for something. He took a few moments to admire this sight before speaking up.

"Rogue?"

Jumping to her feet, she whirled to face him. "Remy! I was—uh—I'll be gone in a sec."

Blinking slowly (DAMN that was a headache), he threw the sheet off of his naked form and stood up.

"Remy!" Rogue covered her blushing face and turned away from him. Though he had no idea why—there was no point in pretending to have modesty after last night. At least that was what the few memories he had were telling him.

Finally. Finally he had gotten her. He had planned on doing it all week—except for the whole being drunk and barely remembering it part of course. He had made arrangements to have a romantic moonlit picnic on the beach in two days for his amour. This was…he wasn't sure what to think of this.

And the fact that Rogue seemed to be looking for her clothes was not a good thing. Had he done something wrong? He mentally scoffed at this. No, he hadn't done anything wrong. One thing that he remembered quite clearly was the sounds of pleasure that came from her mouth last night.

She must be embarrassed; that was the only thing he could figure. He bent and grabbed a pair of boxers from the floor and slipped them on. Normally he would be content walking around in his birthday suit but it seemed to be making Rogue uncomfortable.

Speaking of which, why did she have to go and put clothes on? Waking up and seeing her naked body might have made the headache worth it. And was that his shirt she was wearing?

"I'm decent," he said and placed a hand on her shoulder, "What's a matter, chere? Remy do something to upset you?"

She shook her head and turned back to him. "No, I just…my head hurts, I don't remember anything, and I'm worried about what other people know…and I can't find half of my clothes."

"Who cares what other people know, hm? I was gonna make you mine one day anyway so why does it matter?"

She stared disapprovingly at him for a moment. "It matters because we got rip-roaring drunk and have no idea what went on last night. I don't like not remembering."

Smirking, he leaned in closer to her. "I think we both have an idea of what went on last night, so don't try to act like you don't know. We had _sex_. We had dirty naughty animal sex and you liked it, and I think you know you liked it."

That was a complete lie, of course. His memory didn't go _that_ far. He had no idea if it was sweet and tender or if it really was dirty and animalistic. But he was betting on the later. Or maybe he was just hoping…No, he was pretty sure.

Smacking his hand away, Rogue glared heartily at him as she made her way to the other side of the bed. "I need to find my clothes," she said in a change of subject, "if your memory's so damn good you must know exactly where they are."

"I was teasing you, chere." He shrugged, "You never know, we might not have actually had sex, maybe we just took off all our clothes and went to sleep together."

No they didn't. He knew it, and she knew it, but she nodded anyway.

"Right, well, I just hope…" But he never found what she hoped. She was looking at the pillow and reached down. Coming back up a few seconds later, she held up a pair of torn panties up for the both of them to see.

Her eyes widened as she looked at them. "What did you do to my panties?"

He tried not to laugh at this sight. He knew exactly what had happened to them (though he didn't remember—he just knew because he had done it before) —he had gotten impatient and simply ripped them off of her body. Damn. He wished he could remember that. But he had to wonder if he had ripped them off with his teeth or his hands. It looked flimsy enough to be able to do it with his teeth, but he had probably been too drunk to pull that off.

"I guess…I was in a hurry."

"Remy, these were expensive." She said while waving them around.

"Don't worry, I'll buy you more." He grinned, "Maybe some nice crotchless ones."

She let out a sound of frustration and shoved the panties into her pocket. Throwing the pillows from the bed, she started searching under the covers. "Oh god," he could hear her muffled voice from underneath them say, "well at least we used protection…nine times."

Whoa. Nine times? Was that even possible? Apparently so…

Coming back up, Rogue was looking a little sickened. "Yeah, you might want to wash those sheets."

"Rogue, why are you trying to leave so fast? Let's just try to relax; I'm just as embarrassed about this as you are." That was another lie, but he didn't want her to leave. He didn't like it when she wasn't around. She just made his world a little bit brighter.

"You're not embarrassed!"

She saw right through him. He could never get away with much around her. Though that didn't stop him from trying.

"Maybe not, but we should really talk about this over some coffee and aspirin."

Oh, coffee and aspirin sounded good right now.

Rogue shrugged and crossed her arms. "Fine…just put some clothes on."

Pretending not to hear this grumbled comment, Remy left the bedroom in search for the aspirin in the tiny bathroom. And he also needed some soap. He was planning on convincing his chere to stay with him and it just wouldn't do to smell like tequila and sex while doing it…

Would it?

…

Sitting at the kitchen table, Rogue downed another glass of water while waiting for Remy to come out of the bathroom. It was starting to help the headache a little bit but it did nothing to calm her nerves. She worried about what the others would say—they had to know that she had left with Remy. Unless they were all too drunk to notice of course. And really, that might just be the case.

She thought about calling and checking up on them (at least her cell had survived the night and was still in her pocket) but wasn't sure that she really wanted to deal with that just yet.

What was Remy doing in that bathroom, anyway? Not that she minded—she needed a moment to gather her wits after she had seen him in all his naked glory. She'd never tell him (or anyone else for that matter), but after that it had been hard not to jump him as soon as he had rolled out of bed. And it made sense as to how she had ended up sleeping with him last night.

But it wasn't like she was an animal. She could control herself. She could control herself around a naked, muscular, lean, handsome Cajun.

She could.

Just as this thought went through her mind, the object of her thoughts walked into the kitchen, still only in his boxer shorts. She tried not to stare. That's when she noticed the lacy bra he was holding up for her to see. He tossed it over to her with a smirk on his face.

"Found that in the shower."

Oh holy hell, the shower?

Handing her a few aspirin, Remy set to work on making some coffee.

She tried not to stare at that either. Especially when he bent over to get the coffee filters out of a lower cabinet. Or when his muscles rippled when he reached up to get the coffee grains out of a higher cabinet. Or when he was filling the coffee pot with water. His muscles did nothing then, but it was still right there in front of her and nice to look at.

At least he didn't seem to notice that she was staring; that was good.

…

Rogue was staring at him. Remy could feel her eyes on him the whole time he moved around the kitchen. Whether that was because he was mostly naked, or because he had purposely bent over and then flexed his muscles unnecessarily, he wasn't sure. He didn't know what he did to make her stare when he was filling the coffee pot with water but he liked it anyway.

And hey, it wasn't like he hadn't ever stared at her more beautiful points. Like right now. Two of her very beautiful points were begging for him to stare at them so he did.

"Remy, stop!"

Rogue crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. But he could tell that she wasn't really that mad at him. In fact, he could tell that she liked him. Rogue might think different, but she was terrible liar.

But to make her happy, he lifted his gaze to her mouth. That was another of her beautiful points. It was very distracting. She seemed to be talking right now, but he couldn't quite make out what she was saying—something like, "Blah, blah, blah, blah, take me now Remy-"

"Remy!" She snapped, bringing him out of his daze.

"Yeah?"

"I asked if you could take me home."

Running his hands through his hair, he tried to think of some reason that he couldn't. He couldn't let her leave. Or more like he had to make it so that she didn't want to leave.

"I don't think I have my bike. I can't imagine that we drove it here last night."

Who _had _dropped them off here? Whoever it had been he was going to thank them later.

Rogue sighed and rubbed her temples. "Ok then, I'll just call a cab or something."

"After coffee, right?"

She nodded. "Yeah, whatever."

That was good. Now he figured if he was going to make his move he was going to have to do it sometime in a fifteen minute time frame. But it might prove to be a little more difficult than anticipated; other than her staring, Rogue didn't seem to be feeling much in the mood.

…

Rogue was busy battling her hormones. She had to get out of there before she shamelessly attacked Remy and threw all of her reason out of the window. Then again, she hadn't touched anyone in twenty years; why not touch the willing, half naked Cajun?

But if she made the first move, he would never let her forget it. Who knows who had made the first move last night…When she woke up she would have bet that it been Remy, but now she had to wonder if it had been her.

Remy was staring at her. It would be easy enough to get him to make the first move. That way, it wouldn't be so wrong, right? It might make her feel better. She would hate to remember that she had completely lost control of her lust and had her way with him on the kitchen floor.

That was nice thought.

"So, what do you remember from last night?" She asked him coyly while picking at the edge of the table.

Remy sat down on the opposite side. "Bits and pieces…steamy bits and pieces."

Keeping her eyes down, she responded. "Steamy like the shower, steamy?"

Though she didn't see it, Remy shook his head. "No…too bad I don't remember _that_…But I do remember something…interesting."

Lifting her eyes to meet his, Rogue asked, "What?"

"Come here and I'll show you."

His gaze was smoldering and Rogue had to gulp, hard. Would going to him count as making the first move? She wasn't sure…Was him telling her to come over there making the first move? She wanted to go over—but then again, she wanted to make him fight for it. It was just more fun that way.

"No."

He pouted. "Fine…meet me half way?"

Shrugging, she stood up and walked halfway around the table. Remy looked a bit surprised at her willingness but stood to meet her anyway.

Rogue waited in anticipation. She wished he would hurry up before she really did tackle him to the ground. Surely he was feeling the way that she was. He had always made his feelings and then his more hormone controlled 'feelings' known to her.

There was no way that he would be able to hold out longer than she did. That is, if he didn't hurry up.

…

Remy couldn't believe it. He had hardly done anything at all and already she was willing. He could tell that much from the moment he walked into the kitchen. Oh yeah, he was _good_. On top of being a terrible liar, Rogue was an awful actress. Or maybe he just saw through her better than anyone else.

She stood in front of him and waited—looking very impatient. Hm…he wondered how far he could push that.

Placing a hand on the junction between her neck and shoulder, he pulled the collar of his shirt down to reveal her pale skin. Then he started to trace little indistinct patterns there, while using his other hand to pull her closer to him.

He had to revel at the feel of her body pressed against his. He couldn't quite explain it, but sometimes when she was near it just made him _feel better_. Probably because he was utterly and ridiculously in love with her.

"This is it?" Rogue tried to sound annoyed but he could practically see her resolve crumbling.

"No," he told her, "last night, I found your spot."

"Remy, don't be gross."

"No, not that spot." He grinned. "Though I did find _that _spot. Again and again and again and again-"

"Ok!"

Grinning, he lowered his lips down to the crook of her neck. "I found this spot." He kissed this place gently, "I found the spot that turns you to jelly." He kissed this spot again, this time slower and longer and he could feel her muscles relaxing and her body melting into his.

She tried to hide it, but he could just make out her tiny sigh. Her grip on his arm tightened when he started making a meal out of the rest of her neck, and this time it was easier to make out her strangled moan.

"Remy…"

He was never going to get tired of hearing her say his name like that.

"Remy," she said again, "Hurry up."

Hurry up? Hurry up and do what? Did she really want to have sex right here right now? It wasn't like he wouldn't be perfectly (not to mention unbelievably happy) willing to do just that, but he was surprised. Rogue usually put up more of a fight than this.

Growling at his hesitation, Rogue grabbed his face and smashed her lips to meet his.

They both stumbled—or really Rogue shoved him into the refrigerator, causing it to rattle and shake. Catching on quickly, Remy picked her up—she wrapped her legs around his waist and he made his way over to the table where he slammed her down onto it.

From there he started working on unbuttoning her jeans while Rogue kept the death grip she had on his lips.

Well, Remy thought, this was going well.

…

Rogue couldn't even feel the headache anymore. Or the tired muscles, or the place on her back where Remy had just slammed her onto the table. All she felt was _him_. All she smelled was _him_. All she heard was—well, the sound of her pants unzipping, but in other words, _him_.

And that's when her pants buzzed. Or more accurately, her phone in her pants buzzed. But she was going to ignore it.

Or maybe she shouldn't…No, she was going to…Ok, that was a lie.

Pulling away from his mouth did nothing to deter him; Remy went back to her neck as she reached for her phone and looked at the caller ID.

The blinking light told her it was Kitty and after telling Remy to keep it down (to which he responded, 'Too late') she flipped it open and held it to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Rogue! Are you ok?"

Rogue bit her lip as Remy hit that spot on her neck again. "Yeah, I'm fine," she said in a strangled voice, "Is everyone else ok?"

"Uh…yeah," Kitty sounded strange, "We were worried more about you and Remy."

So they _did _know. But at that moment Rogue was finding it hard to care. In fact, she was already getting bored of this conversation. She had a Cajun waiting for her. "We're ok, just a couple of headaches is all."

"So…you know?"

Did Kitty know that they had slept together?

"Of course I know, Kitty..." she hesitated, "we both woke up…naked."

Kitty cleared her throat. "Uh…I wasn't talking about the sex."

Remy was busy hiking her shirt up and Rogue was finding it increasingly harder to listen to Kitty's voice. "Then what are you talking about?" She managed to ask.

"Well the wedding of course. You and Remy got married last night, don't you remember?"

It was unnecessary to say that _that _got Rogue's attention.


End file.
